Death Goes to the Disco
by syntaxandgramma
Summary: Marauders-era. Remus Lupin is smitten with James' muggle neighbour. Who happens to be part of the mod-revival scene, ride a vespa and play moog in an art-rock band. mod!remus


Wouldn't Remus make a cute mod? This will end up being a two part series, I do believe. However the second part will include the band Pulp in it a lot so I don't think I'll be able to post it here. If you've go no idea what a mod is, you can check out these super snazzy links! and . I haven't written het in a forever and this is also my first Harry Potter fanfiction, so be forgiving.

Disclaimer: All characters in this are property of JK Rowling. Except any original characters, of course.

Remus Lupin heaved a sigh of boredom and directed it upwards, so his blonde fringe lifted off his forehead for a few seconds. He was draped across James Potter's front porch, the All-Mighty-Summer-Heat pressing down against his body and causing him to be unable to concentrate on the book he had brought out with him. It was too hot to read, too hot to talk and too hot to think.

Sirius groaned above, splayed out on the Potter's vinyl glider and suffering in the noon-time heat just as much as Remus. The three, who were entering their last year at Hogwarts soon, were to be spending the entire summer at the Potter's residence. Peter was away visiting relatives in Japan and amused them of cat's on leashes and dinners that weren't quite dead by owl post daily. Remus' own parents had gone off on some sort of Top Secret Mission dealie, and the Potter's had kindly extended the invitation given to Sirius to Remus himself, which both Remus and his parent's had been grateful for. He simply flooed himself home on the full moons. Well, perhaps not too simply. But let's not think about that particular aspect of his life.

The faint sound of a familiar engine motoring up the street perked Remus' ears and he lifted his head slightly, his gaze followed the striking blue vehicle that James' muggle neighbour was steering into her driveway across the way. He subconsciously held vigil as the teenage girl dismounted from her seat and took off her white helmet, shaking her short hair and swaying her waist up to her front door and into the house.

A thump sounded on the side of his head and Remus snapped out of his trance, noticing with some embarrassment that he had long been staring at the door the girl had disappeared into. His cheeks flushed faintly as he turned toward his friend, who had recently smacked him upside the head.

"Oy! James! Remus' got it bad." Sirius commented of his friend to James, who had recently entered the scene – carrying a tray of lemonade graciously provided by Mrs. Potter.

"What's that then, Sirius?" James carefully steadied the tray onto one of the glass patio end tables, before plopping himself down over his best friend's legs, plastic lemonade glass in hand.

"Remmie. He's in loooove."

"I am not!" Remus protested, blushing furiously.

"Whatever mate," Sirius commented flippantly, trying to push James off his legs. "You just better start carrying a particularly large notebook around if you want anyone to believe you."

"Who is it then, Rem? Come on. Own up." James struggled against the forces of Sirius Black, elbowing and squirming.

"It's the muggle bird across the street." Sirius had managed to push James all the way to the edge of the glider; it was only a matter of seconds before he would be completely triumphant. "The one who rides the doohickey."

Thump. James landed ungracefully and limbs akimbo on the floor of the wooden veranda, his plastic cup splashing all over his face. James laughed and mopped it up with his sleeve. "You fucker. I should kick you out of my house, I should." Before turning his attentions to his friend in question. "She's a looker, isn't she Remus? And here I thought you were queer!"

Remus eyes widened at this statement and his body went slightly tense in shock.

"I'm just joshing, mate. Don't worry. We'll set you up good and proper, won't we Siri?"

"C'or, James. But first we need a plan. The most daringly, devious, fiendish, erm, other such adjectives, plan we've ever done!" Sirius admonished with exaggerated bravado.

Remus gulped. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of this at all.

"Ouch! Merlin! Gerroff me toe."

A sharp crack! came from inside the closet and the door's seemed to bulge a little more.

"Oh? Is this what muggle rooms look like? Quite small aren't they?"

"Don't be daft. We've obviously apparated somewh- Hey! Whatchit. That's me arse."

"I know. Do you like this, hmm?"

The closet doors burst open; three entangled teenage bodies stumbled into the softly carpeted room. They seem startled to find themselves there, as a hush falls over them as they stare in wonderment. Every spare inch of the room is covered in some sort of pop culture flotsam. Records, clothes, dirty dishes and books cover every spare inch of the floor. The walls are plastered with posters, newspaper clippings and Polaroid's. The tops of the dressers are strewn with make-up, necklaces, magazines and odd things that blink and glow a lot.

Sirius breaks the silence first. "Lord Remus, you sure know how to pick 'em. You two would be at each other's throats if you ever have to live together." The boy picks his way over to the dresser and begins rustling around the bits of paper and magazines, obviously on a mission.

James follows his friend's lead and starts rummaging around the bedside table. He casts a glance back at Remus and he gestures toward the posters on the wall. "I'd be looking at those if I were you, cause that's what she's going to be wanting in a man."

Remus nods, still in some sort of shock and steps up to the nearest poster. He runs his fingers over the glossy paper, tentative and in slight awe. It depicts three boys in suites and skinny ties with carefully styled haired and The Jam is imprinted on the bottom. He assumes that is one of those rock'n'roll bands he's heard so vaguely about it. He moves on to the next one, reading a yellowed newspaper clipping savaged from 1964 about a Mods vs. Rocker riot in Brighton. Remus has no idea what a 'mod' is but the picture depicts a black&white photo of a gang of teens all riding the same sorts of vehicles he had seen her on so many times before. His gaze wandered up the wall, taking in all the posters and studying them diligently. Joy Division, The Who, The Kinks, David Bowie, The Circles, Long Tall Shorty, The Stranglers... the list went on and on. There seemed to be an endless amount of bands in the world, he really wished he had brought a pen and some parchment along.

The slight werewolf shuffled to the bookshelf and trailed his gaze down the titles. He was unfamiliar with most, but he recognized some. A slight thrill went down him when he saw that she had a copy of Rimbaud's 'Season In Hell' and another electric shock shook down his spine at familiar title of 'Letters from the Underground' by Doestovesky. But mostly the books seemed to be composed of contemporary muggle writers who had not yet made their way into the wizard literary landscape.

"Aha!" Sirius cried triumphantly from his side of the room. The two others turned immediately to look at their friend, who was saving a small piece of pink crumpled paper in the air above his head. He jumped over the clothes to where Remus was and thrust the paper at him.

Remus took it and unraveled it slowly.

"See?!" Sirius pointed an abject finger at a certain line at the paper. "She's high-lighted this one here. 'Mod's Weekend' at the Lead Mill in Sheffield. You can go there and accidentally bump into her!!!" Sirius continued, his excitement contagious.

"Oh, that's only a week away." James commented, reading over Remus' shoulder. "We've got loads to do in that tim-" He was caught off abruptly by a car door slamming in the driveway. The trio exchanged panic stricken glances before vacating the premises with three resounding cracks.

"-like figure out what the bloody hell a mod is and how to get Remus here to look like one." James finished his sentence, shortly after the other two had appeared in his bedroom.


End file.
